


The Company of Women

by just_ann_now



Category: Firefly
Genre: Female Friendship, Ficlet, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:31:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_ann_now/pseuds/just_ann_now
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a few hours each day the lives that they had lived before, or lived now outside this room, were set aside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Company of Women

Zoë wasn't exactly sure how they started meeting in Inara's shuttle each afternoon. It might have been by accident: Zoë walking down the passageway as Kaylee was asking advice on how to capture Simon's attention; Inara inviting Zoë to stay a bit after Zoë had recalibrated the shuttle controls; River sitting outside the door, doleful as a puppy, eager for a glimpse inside. After a while, it seemed as though there must have been a secret code among them, a nod or a lift of the shoulder, and when their other tasks were done, they would each find their way to Inara's door. 

It had taken Zoë some time to become accustomed to Inara and Kaylee, both of them so different from any women she had known before. And River seemed more like a pookah, a spirit from one of Inara's tales, yet in that room she seemed calmer, softer, the carefree young girl she should have been. For a few hours each day the lives that they had lived before, or lived now outside this room, were set aside. Here was joy and laughter, sometimes pain and sorrow, and women’s wisdom to be shared. 

There was always a scent to the room: lush and heavy, inciting them to whisper secrets they would never in a thousand years reveal outside, or green and fresh, like the scent of damp earth and spring flowers on planets they never knew. The four of them would gather on Inara's wide bed, Zoë leaning back to luxuriate in deep feather pillows while Kaylee and River sat crosslegged like schoolgirls. Often Inara would read to them, melodious poetry in foreign tongues, myths and fables of goddesses from ancient, faraway worlds, or Kaylee and Zoë would share bits of songs or folktales from their girlhoods. Sometimes River and Kaylee would explore Inara's jewel boxes, paintboxes, decorating themselves with strands of pearl or coral and jade, or henna and kohl. 

After a while, Zoë would drowse, lulled by the warmth, the perfume of their bodies, the soft voices. She never meant to fall asleep; she had never been one for napping, but it was like a cocoon, a nest, so comfortable and comforting. A few moments, an hour, two hours; she would wake and stretch, opening her eyes to Inara's smile and the murmur of conversation as though no time had passed at all. 

One afternoon she was eased into wakefulness by a strange soft crooning, and the touch of feathery fingertips on her skin. She almost panicked a moment – there had been too many times, long ago, when she had awakened to find her body aching, her clothes in disarray, and a sour taste in her mouth. But then the scent of the room brought her back to where River was curled next to her, her cheek pressed against Zoë's belly as she sang. It almost sounded like a lullaby - 

Zoë caught her breath, not believing. 

“It's a girl,” River whispered, smiling into Zoë's eyes.


End file.
